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It wasn’t even a week yet. Not even a week.
Not even a full week and here I was making all these decisions.
Decisions and choices.
I’d paid the money, the twenty grand. I was hoping it would keep me in Frankie’s good graces, if he had any. I fucking hoped he did, because deep down I was afraid he didn’t.
I grabbed my notebook too quickly and it fell off the counter sending the little tabs I’d put for indexes off the pages.
“Shit,” I gasped bending down and picking them up.
I’d tabbed the sections where I was keeping watch on certain trends. Like how I knew the summer brought more students in and the types of alcohol they liked. Now it would be all jumbled and I’d have to sort it out.
I was hoping to give the notebook to the new person who Gio got to look after the place. I had various notes too on numbers to call for maintenance, services, and even troubleshooting.
I gathered it all together and stood up, but as I did my back came up against a wall.
I gasped and turned, because there was no damn wall there.
No, there was no wall, but the man in front of me was built like it.
Frankie Santora stood there with a smirk on his face.
I hadn’t heard him come down the stairs.
Why didn’t I hear him?
My heart slammed at the sight of him as I remembered the fact that he’d been involved in Marshall’s murder. Him or one of his family members it was all the same to me.
They were all the same.
Truly despicable.
Instantly, my heartbeat sped up and my hands started trembling.
I wondered …
Had the Santoras known that Marshall was related to us when Dad borrowed the money from them?
How did it happen?
I knew these people could just kill. They killed ruthlessly and mindlessly.
Me alone down here with him was not good either.
“Shame you got up. I was enjoying the view of your perfect ass.” He leaned forward and leered. I stepped back away from him.
Sure enough the asshole stepped forward.
“What are you doing down here?” I asked. I wanted to ask him what the fuck he was doing here in the bar, but thought better of it. I couldn’t fight this guy. I couldn’t even when I had tried really hard the last time he cornered me. I just had to stand up against a fucking wall letting him touch me and lick my face.
It was abuse, bullying. It was fucked up.
“Just imagine it.” He ignored my question. “You on your knees, with me fucking you hard from behind. I’d make sure you enjoy it.”
It made me feel sick, again. Just like the other day those kind of thoughts turned my stomach.
“Why do you keep bothering me? I make my payments just like we agreed and yet you keep on. You just keep on. Why?” I tried to keep the tremor out of my voice, but it wasn’t working. My voice quivered and the lump that formed in my throat made it hard to breath. It all worked in tandem to weaken me and allow him to see how vulnerable I was and felt.
He was the predator and I was his prey.
That was this, his game. I was the prey who was hoping like hell the predator allowed her to leave. To live another day.
The grin he gave me was more of a scowl mixed with a crude sardonic sneer.
“Noticed you have friends in high places. Is that why you’re suddenly talking big to me?”
“I’m not talking big, just asking a question. I came by and paid up for four months. It’s logical that you would leave me alone.”
“No, it’s not, because the thing I want isn’t the money.” He took one more step closer to me. I stepped backward.
It was the same dance as the other day at the salon.
Back into the corner I went wanting to run, but knowing it would be so much worse if I did.
He backed me into a corner again and I found myself back in the same position with his hand up on the wall, blocking my path.
Pure, raw desire filled his eyes. Wonderful if the guy you were with was someone who you wanted to be with.
Sickening if it was someone you didn’t want ever to touch you.
Someone who was trying to force themselves on you.
“The thing I want isn’t the money Lyssa Carson. It’s you.” He leaned closer.
“Why, would you? You know I don’t want you. You know I don’t want to be with you.” My poor heart was speaking. It spoke and the desire in his eyes turned to pure fury.
“That’s not the point. It never is. I don’t believe in rape, but I’ll do it if I have to. It’s so much the better if you come willingly.”
“I never will.” I shook my head.
“Don’t say never. Everyone has a price. I just happen to know you have a few. Like that friend of yours, you didn’t tell him about our little situation did you?”
“Why? Maybe I did.” I lifted my head higher. I’d never paid that kind of money before. It was always just the five grand except for the first payment which had been the money from selling my house. “Maybe I did tell him.” I was kind of going out on a limb and hoping he’d be afraid of Gio too.
He wasn’t though. He answered by taking hold of my face and squeezing my cheek hard.
“You didn’t obviously or else I doubt that he would have given you so little. A man like that gets a girl like you and he’d clear the whole debt. He would come and see me by now if he knew I had any dealings with her. So, no you didn’t tell him.” he laughed. “You didn’t tell him Lyssa Carson that you’re about to become my whore.”
I tried to break out of his grasp, but he held me tighter. It made me feel even more sick when he covered my left breast with his free hand and squeezing there too.
“Let go of me.”
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” He rammed me hard into the wall and I knocked the back of my head.
“My dad’s going to sell his house.” I spoke staring him hard in his eyes, cold calculative green eyes.
He looked intrigued to hear that. “Is he now?”
It was the answer. Screw the fact that I hadn’t spoken to Dad yet about it.
“Yes. We’ll sell the place and you’ll get your money. I’ve paid you for four months already.”
“And you fucking think your house will sell in four months? Really. I was gracious in the beginning. I waited for the first house sale to pay off the bulk of the loan. No, I don’t think I’ll be doing that again. Not when what I want is right here.” he shook his head.
“You son of a bitch. It’s money up front. It’s all you wanted upfront. All this year.” Tears pinched the backs of my eyes.
“I told you. I’m more interested in having you. Here’s the deal. I certainly don’t want to piss off Chicago and cause some kind of scrape. I’ll make you an offer I think you’d be foolish to refuse.”
God what was it?
I hated that he could see the desperation in my eyes. “What?”
“One night.” He widened his smile. “One night with me and the debt’s repaid in full. I’ll leave you alone after one night with me and you won’t have to worry about telling the capo for the Chicago Mafia boss that you owed me big time. You can take that or continue as you are. Paying a monthly bill and me hoping you’ll fail and be mine forever.”
My breath hitched in my throat. “You evil bastard.”
“Yes, yes I am exactly that. I’m the fucking devil. I’m going to give you some words of advice here. Don’t tell your new friend about this little situation of ours. I wouldn’t if I was you. Us guys, our kind we don’t negotiate all that well when it comes to our dolls. Badass as he may be in Chicago. This is Philly, my turf. I don’t want any problems Lyssa if I get them remember I know where you live. I’ll kill your father and make your son watch. Then I’ll fuck you and make your son watch that too. Then I’ll kill him.” He laughed and my soul shivered. “One night with me baby. One night sounds a fuck of a lot better than al
l that drama and possible deaths. One night with me or continue as you are silently. Shhhhhhhh ... One night and all the problems disappear though.”
He made a show of holding out his hands in front of my face and lifting them up and down like a scale, weighing the options.
I shouldn’t consider it. I shouldn’t consider it.
One night.
Oh God …
Oh God …
He’d threatened to kill Matthew and Dad.
The situation had gotten so far out of hand. It was completely out of control.
All this for money, I was supposed to sleep with this man for money.
So, he could release me from my debt.
It’d make me a whore indeed.
Footsteps sounded at the top of the stairs and I jumped.
They came down the stairs sounding like how they should have sounded when Frankie came down earlier.
I thought it was going to be one of my staff, but I was both shocked and relieved to see Gio.
The fact that Frankie was here didn’t even cross my mind.
His face contorted into a heavy scowl when he saw Frankie.
Frankie who just looked at me and smiled.
“What are you doing down here?” He asked Frankie.
I didn’t know if he knew who he was though.
“Talking with the boss about a drink order.” Frankie lied.
He’d released me, but he was still close. He was too close and my clothes were ruffled. My cheeks were burning so I knew they were red.
We didn’t look anything like people who were simply talking. If anything it looked like Gio had walked in on something going on between us and we’d jumped apart.
“Really, Frankie Santora comes to this bar of all the bars around here to get a drinks order.” Gio smirked. Fuck, he knew who Frankie was.
“I like it here. Good customer service.” Frankie answered in that leery way. “And now that I’m done, I’ll just be leaving. Wouldn’t want to get Chicago in a state of flux.”
“We don’t get down like that.” Gio smiled back.
“I apologize capo, my mistake to assume that Claudius wouldn’t keep his men in order.”
My God. He not only knew who Gio was, but his men too.
I really was from a different world.
Frankie stepped away and moved past Gio.
We both watched him go up the stairs and through the door.
The minute it closed Gio whirled around to face me.
“Lyssa, tell me now. Are you screwing around with Frankie Santora?” He demanded.
“No.” I was trying so hard to stop my shaking, but I couldn’t.
“Didn’t look like he was placing any kind of order with you.”
Because he wasn’t.
I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted to say that Frankie offered me one night of sex with him to clear Dad’s debt, my debt.
I wanted to tell him the truth, however, knowing what the truth could do silenced me. Instead I chose the lie that flittered into my mind instead.
“I’m just shaken because we know they’re involved. He comes here a lot with his guys. It was the reason why we know of him.”
Gio looked at me and I hoped this was the one thing about us that had changed.
He used to be able to tell if I was lying.
Back then it was only foolish lies not this important. Like how I liked his baked chicken, but honestly, I thought it tasted like rubber. Or, how I liked the tie his dad bought him for his twenty fifth birthday, but really I thought it looked like shit. He knew I was lying when I told him the food was nice and the tie was nice.
This wasn’t like that though. We’d been laughing when he eventually dragged the truth out of me, not so now.
He looked me over and either he decided that he believed me. Or he’d decided that I was lying, but he wouldn’t call me out on it. I didn’t know which though I thanked God when he put out his hand to take mine.
Chapter 18
Gio
Gibbs lit up a cigarette and the fiery end lit up the darkness that covered us.
No one would have been able to see us.
The three of us hid under the hatch of the boardwalk right beside The Hook.
Another contact of a contact we’d spoken to earlier said this was a good hiding spot. He’d said it was good to hide in and good to escape if needed.
We were staking out the club.
We were keeping watch for anyone or anything suspicious, but I couldn’t concentrate.
The guys already had a mouthful from me, because I was mad as fuck at what I witnessed yesterday.
Frankie and Lyssa.
She’d lied to me. I knew she did. I always did, but real question was why?
It wasn’t because she was screwing around with him. When she said she wasn’t I knew that to be the truth.
It was her eyes that gave her away. Her eyes would seem more open like when she was telling the truth almost like she really wanted me to see the truth.
Lies though saw her eyes guarded. They covered up like the lie she was telling to hide the truth.
It was how I knew immediately that she was lying.
In our search of her we hadn’t found any large debts she owed, and from what it seemed Frankie did just go in and out of the bar like a customer. That didn’t mean shit though.
I knew lies when I saw it.
Dante punched me in my side. Gibbs just looked at me.
“Stop it man, I’m not in the mood to play with you.” I winced.
“Prick,” Dante hissed. “When do I ever play? I’m not playing with you either. Need you to be sharp.”
“Fuck you Dante. You know I can’t be fucking sharp when I have shit on my mind.” I snapped.
Gibbs just continued to look irritatingly at me. “You know what Gibbs, what the fucks on your mind? Just tell me instead of fucking looking at me like I’m some kind of show.”
Gibbs and Dante exchanged glances.
Gibbs blew out a ring of smoke and pressed his lips together. “Finally you ask, since you didn’t really tell me much about the situation with the girl. I had to guess the boy was your son, I didn’t think it was my place to make any comments.”
I had been kind of private and only talking to Dante about Lyssa and Matthew. Because …
Because I never thought it was relevant to talk about them not until the other day when Paul mentioned the name Santora. Then when I went to the bar to pick up Lyssa, low and behold there was Frankie Santora right there. Only a fucking breath away from my girl. He had the audacity to tell me that fucking bull shit about a drink order, like I was born yesterday.
“Let’s hear it then?”
“He has something over her. Something she doesn’t want to tell you. Something really big.”
“Like what?” I demanded.
“Maybe she slept with him.”
What the hell, that was the fucking wrong thing to say to me. I moved forward to hit him and Dante grabbed me holding me back.
“Fuck Gio, what the shit is wrong with you?” Dante shoved me hard. “It’s Gibbs and he’s right. You’ve been here for a day shy of a week. Let’s face it things have moved fast. Don’t argue with me either, because it’s true. Things have moved very fast and you don’t know who she was with while you weren’t here.”
I seethed biting down hard on my back teeth. He was right and I didn’t want him to be.
I was an asshole for what I had said to Lyssa. When I had told her that she lacked experience and then when I insinuated that she didn’t have any reason to be confused that I was Matthew’s father.
What did I expect?
Her to stay in that innocent shell forever where she was just mine.
Really?
I left her and I wasn’t some kind of saint either for that matter.
“You really think it’s that? That she slept with him?” I asked Gibbs, because she didn’t seem to have any kind of connection with him like that.
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“Not sure. It’s gonna be something she doesn’t want to tell you though. Seriously that could include a range of things. Doesn’t help that we’re going to come up against the Santoras at some point and they now know your price.”
Damn it. He could certainly say that again.
“You just need to focus okay.” Dante shoved a hard hand into my arm.
I nodded. “It just pisses me off when I don’t know shit. I hate being lied to and I hate being taken for an idiot. If she’s got something like that I want to know.”
Gibbs straightened and held out his cigarette like he had heard something. He then placed his finger over his mouth signaling us to be quiet and pointed outside.
The area we were in was boarded so that we were looking through the crevices in the wood.
You have to go through the sewer to get to this place and from the outside it looked like it was just part of the boardwalk. It was situated right in the gap between the areas that curved off the stairs and the drains for the club. It was right at the back of the club.
In front of us came a shadowy figure that became visible under the lamppost outside the club.
Fucking Frankie Santora.
My new friend. I balled my fists.
He lit a roll up and smiled at a man who approached. The very man we were looking for ... Captain Bailey Donovan.
The contact guy said we’d find him here. Said the other day when he saw him he looked like he was planning something. This was the spot where they always met because it was away from everyone.
We’d come here on the off chance to see him.
Seeing this guy made my blood heat to boiling point almost instantaneously. I could sense it, there was something in him that made me feel he was definitely Marshall’s killer.
It was my instincts.
I wanted to go out there and beat him to death.
“Is it done?” Frankie asked.
“Yes. Everything’s ready to get Torrez out,” Bailey replied. “I need your best men to protect him. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that he’s not being watched in some kind of way.”
The dude had to be in his late sixties, still built with that superior look his, military short buzz cut, and the moustache.
Asshole.